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2010 one last remark about Mom she’s never had faith or trust in me she always doubts redirects me when i was little she continuously blamed me accusing me of being sick needing a psychiatrist at age 20 my parents committed me for disciplinary reasons to the Institute of Living a psychiatric hospital in Hartford Connecticut in a locked ward for 4 months Mom and Dad discouraged my aspirations to succeed as a painter/writer arguing the impracticality of my decision they thumbs downed Bayli even today she undermines my efforts to love protect her she scolds me for asking permission from my cousin Chris to allow his son Maynard to fly down here and help me pack then drive up to Chicago so i might get to know Maynard on a road trip she instructs hire professional packers for a $100. they’ll be glad to help you pack Mom has always stood in the way of my choices decisions



1975 Chicago in his parent’s kitchen Mom offers the cannolis are fresh from Kanella’s Bakery or try the chocolate fudge cake it’s absolutely delicious Odysseus replies are you trying to fatten me up or **** me with sweets Mom flirtatiously teases i’ve always been about your ruination Odys



2001 Tucson Mom comes for visit at Thanksgiving in her early 80s walking proud yet painfully on displaced hips she is an inspiration to Odysseus her eyes are clouded with cataracts yet she sees life as an eternal optimist since 1920 the world has changed so drastically yet Mom has learned to accept many things she previously did not tolerate she lives prudently on modest fixed income her fingers are arthritically deformed but she was once a great beauty many men desired her Odysseus asks if it was difficult for Mom to lose the power of her physical desirability he noticed her good looks waning in her 50s she answers she sensed her  attraction going in her 70s she still possesses regal qualities and is quite socially charming she chatters a flurry of familiar names events that keep her busy she travels around by herself Mom’s spirit endures but in reality she drifts further away with each passing season she is delicate and has difficulty remembering she echoes a distant past in the early evening of Thanksgiving Day they sit at table of elegant yet rather staid dining room of Mom’s choosing at Arizona Inn she says it reminds her of the way things used to be she wears tasteful black linen slacks black pumps thin silk knitted black turtleneck with string of pearls gold earrings her blonde hair coiffured in same fluffy sprayed style it has been for 50 years in his heart he knows a part of her wishes her son was more like Tom Steinberg who was a senior when Odysseus was a freshman at River Woods Academy The Steinbergs and Mom are still friendly Tom is a successful investment banker with a wife and child living in Winnetka Mom nervously touches the pearl strand around her neck she says you know Mort Rock’s wife Phyllis died i was such a good friend to her at her funeral they read how she said i was her best friend she left me 10 lousy thousand dollars in her will she’s worth millions it’s eating me up inside i needed that money desperately i can’t stop thinking about it 10 lousy thousand dollars went immediately to pay off loans i’m going to sell my jewelry i don’t know what i can get in the spring i’ll put the apartment up for sale or try to get a reverse mortgage from the bank i never told you kids before i’m not in good shape Odysseus comments i feel terrible i wish so much i could help maybe Phyllis Rock suspected you and her husband maybe all those years you were her best friend she read it as guilt and obligation Mom you need to be more truthful Mom cuts in i never had *** with Mort Rock that man drove me crazy he was nuts for me Mom orders the traditional turkey dinner Odysseus orders the Macadamia nut encrusted Hawaiian fish the waiter brings price fixed appetizers little circles of toasted bread with lightly browned melted cheese tiny triangular cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches roasted watercress nuts wrapped in bacon and little hot dogs pierced with fluffy ended toothpicks Mom begins to gobble as she remarks to Odysseus  why do you want to wear your hair like that? you look like you escaped from the camps Odysseus asks what camps are you referring to Mom? she replies the Concentration Camps! you’re a good-looking man and you still have a full head of hair why do you want to shave it off i don’t understand i think you should move back to Chicago Tucson has done nothing to offer look at you you’re all alone you don’t have any friends come home and be your old self again he answers my old self you don’t get it do you Mom do you remember my commodity trading debacle or my 40th birthday or you and aunt Rita’s ceaseless corrections Mom smugly retorts what do you mean your 40th birthday don’t you get smart with me you should be ashamed of yourself why must you keep bringing up the past you need to let go of the past you go into such details details i don’t remember what does it matter now it’s history we only wanted what we thought was best for you you never listened you were only interested in yourself plenty of other kids get beaten and come through just fine you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent it tears me up inside you talk like you had nothing to do with it i can’t take this abuse from you anymore her misshapen fingers hands begin trembling as her voice emotes you think i don’t realize we made mistakes with you you think we were such monsters i wasn’t a good mother i was a lousy ***** is that what you think answer me what are you a bump on a log Odysseus sits stiff in chair his voice shrinks he just sits there his legs shake under table Mom says your father was quick-tempered we were under so much financial pressure maybe we did send you away too soon if i had to do it again i’d do it differently what does it matter now it’s 50 years ago forget the past what do you want from me what can i do he listens silently wondering if Mom seeks some kind of redemption can her conceit permit it he knows he is ******* her he does not mean to be uncomfortable with his muteness Mom continues you were a difficult child remember all the trouble you caused look at you you’re still a difficult man he questions Mom can you hear yourself you think i’m difficult she answers you think we were such terrible parents you grew up in a house of violence his thumb and forefinger nervously touch his chin as he replies no you were good parents i was a problem child different from you you afforded me a beautiful home and brilliant education i wanted to investigate life and learn and grow you didn’t know what to do with a child like that as much as she tries Mom never has been a comfort for Odysseus or he for her he inadvertently stirs her to worry or snap and she in turn unthinkingly disturbs him nevertheless they love each other the waiter brings out salads Mom ordered iceberg lettuce with thousand island dressing Odysseus chose the spinach salad he takes several bites Mom remarks use your salad fork not your dinner fork you know better than that suddenly it occurs to him Mom is more fragile than he he thinks to himself silently Mom i realize your life is closing in on you your mind drifts and you need to fake and cover-up more than ever do you want me to come home and take care of you i will take care of you then he remembers how miserable they were together during his throat cancer recovery in her 3 bedroom Lake Shore Drive condominium immersed in contemplation he pushes the fork through spinach leafs Mom says sit up in the chair and put a smile on your face she self-consciously peeks around the room having lost his appetite Odysseus looks down at napkin on his lap glances at half-eaten salad bowl he gazes up at Mom the waiter arrives making a pained smile he clears the salads then serves the entrees after the waiter departs Mom speaks Odys look at me when i’m talking to you i think about a lot of things i should have done after the fact sometimes even years later Max and i made a lot of incorrect choices when it came to you he cuts in Mom you don’t have to say anymore i love you always have loved you and know you love me too Mom says you know how much i appreciate your paintings you’ve made my life richer i‘ve always been supportive of you in fact i’m your biggest fan right Odys right? thank you Mom i’m grateful Mom says i’ve spoken with psychiatrists and they all tell me the same answer tell your son to forget it why must you dwell in the past what did we do so dreadfully wrong i don’t understand you’re a hard case i wish i could get through to you i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us you’ll sleep better he questions you know about my insomnia restless sleep nightmares Mom says i can imagine Odysseus’s eyes begin to water Mom i love you i wouldn’t be who i am without you Mom says don’t get so emotional you sound weak take it from me you must be strong in life learn discipline and willpower i love you too son Odysseus wonders if maybe he agitates Mom because he is a constant liability lacking fiscal self-reliance deep down Mom is a giggling gossiping playful girl spoiled by her father she never wanted to grow up and be burdened with the tasks of parenthood what woman of rare beauty and charm would want to give up her privilege and freedom for some kid especially a *******-up kid maybe deep down Mom resents Odysseus he stares down at the Macadamia nut encrusted Hawaiian fish and silently prays he will be released from his life all his stupid sins regrets self-pity self-hatred his vain inconsequential existence



i move organize empty shelves cabinets drawers closets edit wrap tape pack wonder if moving back to Chicago is one more mistake heaped on top of a 1000 mistakes a 1,000,000 mistakes is going home to help Mom my biggest mistake ever i simply know i must try to protect my Mom
Michael W Noland Apr 2013
Intrepidly neglected, of my lessened reasoning, I am dissected, of my insurrection, from the blessed beens of yesteryear's glints, dancing, parading, and burning, in layers, stages, and fazes, fading, and melting, the plastic faces into the smelting heap, that has come so far, just to inspire me.

Always.

Always you unto me, spiraling, indefinitely into the deep, where ceased is the times, with bloodied hands, and laugh lines, laughing one last time, while glancing toward my watch, under setting suns, and rising stars, smiling faces, and in tearful goodbyes, i realise

The sky's limitlessness

And in all the glory, and all the bliss, the eloquent stories, and the gentle drifts, my imagination uplifts, in wisps of gentleness, where i submit to reason.

Bless-ed be, the one who garners to my support, from a vortex of euphoric antidotes, of mindless quotes, and animated emotes, pulsed, from straight faces, and lost hope.

Ill tell the truth, you can go with nope, in whispered breaths of gun smoke, lathered in lith-dope.

Just trying to cope with the flow, until i crash upon the shores of nevermore, and, explore these holes in my soul intent, ascending from the contempt of bent perspectives, and twisted concepts, letting the blood of the peasant from my arms of harmony, trembling blankly to sleep.

To you a *****, to me tranquility, as i sink, into the world i knew, so that it may be seen, casing the well being, of all the things, and pixelated dreams, from a thieves keep.

Deep, down, below me, in obscurity, i seep, through the soil of my turmoil, until my hand reaches out, from beyond my doubts, and clambers from the shadows, outside of myself.

I am born, of mud, of muck, of the stuff, you're afraid of, and all i bare is love, love to shrug the shams astray, vacating the placation, and dichotomies, unifying light, into one me, shining in the rainy streets, of my deletion

Until my completion
Completely
Erases me.
Frankie Gestone Aug 2011
Rain drops of you everywhere,
Appearing and disappearing
From sky to earth
I cannot grab you but I feel your existence
I see your form but only understand you as formless
A hurricane of thoughts trap me,
Puddles of you flood my heart
Every step is one closer to you,
And the more I see through you,
The better I understand my essence
Because when I look into the mirror,
I see a road with no beginning or end
A perfect circle
Every memory of you unites inside of me
A revelation of wisdom that we have no difference
We are the same exact being
Now you are pregnant with my future,
My past is just a haunting ghost,
Melodic words you compose,
With a heart that emotes passion
Two beats per bar
An infinite number of bars
You and me: One whole note
Dissonance is the sound when we are alone
Together we resolve to consonance
We are fire and water as one
Finally united peacefully
The Truth May 2015
This feeling, leaves me speechless
The thought of you on my mind
Unable to reach that first kiss
If only I could slow down time
A bliss image of what I want in my arms
This feeling of pain over powers me
At the sight of your lovely charms
Leaves me to blind to even see
As if I am your sword and shield
I'd fight for you with all my will
With only my heart in my hands to wield
Just the thought of that emotes a thrill
I may not be the one who holds you heart
But i'd protect it till my very last breath
For this feeling shall not be torn apart
Till the day I meet with Death
My lips go numb, they've become weak
My lungs gap for a widen breath
When I look at you, I cannot speak
Kevin Rich Oct 2015
I’ll play this song
for old times sake
you’ll sing along
again
for old times sake
missive melodies
that never change
our dissonant notes
well overplayed
we’ve become actors
stuck in someone else’s play
how’d we ever let life get this way
what was once a rainbow
is now only shades of grey
the rhythm is lost
in the tip-tap of your toes
shuffling endlessly
as if trying to escape
run off with your feet
only to be left in the street
struggling to beat the light
that’s already changed the scene
adding a red glow
that makes you look better anyway
Can we keep the topic on dancing?
as it emotes such a clean wholesome feeling
that one can really lean on
in troubles times, five four
rounded out to seven eight
Hurry **** you!
We’re already late
such an important recital
giving in to improvisation
as we are stripped of
rank and title
Alyson Lie Jun 2015
She sits—left leg upon right,
right hand resting in left,

eyes closed, watching joy drift
among sorrows; up one minute,

down the next; a Ferris wheel
of fear and loneliness, then

moments of letting go;
the brows furrowed and then

a smile on her lips—the way a
cellist emotes herself through Bach.

Others have said to her that she is
lucky to be so groundless, to be

free of any misapprehension that
life is perfect or that it will be easy.

She knows better than that.
And because she does, she can take

the crests and the troughs as they come—
a part of the ocean and not the wave.
Kwanele Jul 2015
Rhythm is poetic..
We all know how catharsis emotes, she purges, taps.
She taps away at the keys and if the silence was not too loud you'd hear how the keys on this device create a beautiful kind of rhythm because she says rhythm is poetic and I am thinking of her, thoughts of how if I was ever granted the pleasure of seeing her ..holding her, these thoughts lead to how I imagine her smile would look like and how that would make my heart skip beats, how my heart would race and how beautiful the sound would be..  how I'd ask her to stand close enough to hear it say... rhythm is poetic, rhythm is poetic, rhythm is poetic, this beat, swaying her emotions, letting then run wild because, my heart beats at the tune she hummed, beat..boxed, Sophia Thakur did that.. not a single beat but three beautiful sounds connecting two beings.. two kindred spirits. 
Rhythm is poetic, catharsis personified it, her smile and my heart danced to a beat under the stars with the stars creating constellations, beautiful constellations, creating seasons and the beat created the illusion of a fifth season. Our maker did with the heavens and the earth, we create our own little heaven in moments brought together by time, the stars, her smile, my hitching breath and my heartbeat.
She said it.
Could be love, let it be beautiful
Steven Fried Oct 2013
Burning red eyed glow
Cool to your embers
Blow smothering the flame
Bonfire emotes in flame
Blue oceans deep pass over your heat
Let me sink in I've dove deep

Your pools of blue
Draw and drown
Magnetic energy motorized within me
I spark
Hitherto never shocked
White blinding light
Disappear in the cloud

Trampoline of cotton
Take me higher, higher
Show me wonder
Don't drop me.
For I will fall onto the green
Grass won't stop this descent
Bush won't cushion this fall
Tree won't just impale
Forest nights grow darker

I'm lying down on my blanket
Pressing into the lush
Breathing nostrils tendril tickles
Sink a half inch deeper
into the bending saber tips
Watch from your tower
Rays of gold meld and procreate naturally
Don't take my warmth and life

Golden globular orb melting sloughing sliding down
Un-fathomable happiness
Limitless light life justice
Ice cold depression
Death wallow in grief
When the mighty winks goodbye
The black will rule
Hades rises

Hellish requiem depress souls
Let the forms wander as empty husks
Tombs line roads and no light to see them
Take my vision hearing smelling
Leave me warmth
Even your red eyed glow
I submit
Francie Lynch Feb 2015
Trailers don't give away the entire plot.
I've been watching for years
As an active actor
In various melodramas.
  
     The good guy is clean shaven
     Beneath the lather,
     Emotes empathy,
     And never snickers.
     A straight shooter.

The other guy needs a blade
As cutting as sarcasm,
And aims when you turn.

     Then there's re-runs
     Whose endings never change.
     The prophet gets arrested.
     Tara burns. Ice bergs floe.
     I am under Lowry's volcanoe,
     Or leaving Las Vegas.
     28 Days is only two hours
     Of wine and roses.

The trailers just reveal enough
To give me hope.
ConnectHook Feb 2018
Lines break
              weirdly

white   space   is   r a c i s t

repetition emotes imagery

crypt  ic  ally / intention ally

dull erudition . . .
pompous verbosity

              rhymeless atrocity
                      lines / break
Weirdly-spaced lines
Of cryptic observations
Doth not a poem make . . .
Urbaniste Lost Feb 2010
It’s this feeling I wait for: Perfection, Serenity.
Every hour before now has no meaning to me
An artificially sweetened, chemical world
In a few moments breaths all begins to swirl.
A whirl of mankind, a homogenous shape
In an exact world, but in an altered state.
As all that’s good and green goes up in gray smoke
Everyone is magic and everything emotes.
I can still identify, but in a different mind.
This perfect serenity…I want it all the time.
Martin Narrod Aug 2017
what is more gentle?

than this pillow of the light?
a life narrowing,
in a bright feather dance
that sweeps across the sea
or covers our faces in shadows.
where do you go when you leave me?
now I am nocturnal,
a bliss bandit,
cooing at stars
one thousand miles high.
shaking like a tea kettle,
I am the black *** black,
shaking,
shivering.
Swallowing pieces of your light,
in the back-room jungle where I sew,
tears to the bottoms of my eyes,


I know days,
hours,
one minute
where I gambled time
and stood behind you
with my fingers
on your shoulders
and my mouth on your neck.
What it takes to be apart,
split in half,
shucked from birth;
it takes every thing I
ever owned,
every note I ever sang,
each breath that I will make-
some thought I stand up on,
my knees quivering below me.
five kinds of drugs
just to see straight, to hold
my hands steady or
sleep at night.
your lavender flavor
is still in me.
youth inside me.
one.
two.
soaking in this forgotten city,
Earth's heroes drifting away.
I could never eat again, or
cast a spell, or touch the same.
while burning I may never
stand
on these same two feet again.
Or answer an echoing voice
From across the gloom
Where nearness emotes itself
And I freeze inside my own cacophony
Of brilliant moods and total confusion.


four years,
a photograph.
one voice,
softening into my skin,
that I may never forget.
that this beard is of
an old man, should I never
count again
blessings or songs.
I dive into the flame
and study this journey backwards.
so I should never forget,
everything so serious
as this
as youth and eves
Three drops of cuteness
Spilt against a human act of
Being.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Jan 2021
The coming of Biden and Harris reminds me of one of the most beautiful and evocative songs ever sung, the first line of which goes something like this:  "If you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair." It was written and composed by John Phillips and sung by Scott McKenzie. Implicit not only in its writing and composing, but also in its singing, this song emotes the most powerful message that can ever be delivered to and absorbed by humankind:  LOVE.

I would have been in Haight-Ashbury in June, July, and August of 1967, but I was a patient at the famous Menninger Foundation at that time, the best help of its kind in the world, and expensive (my father was a rich). But it was my mother who finessed my way into Menninger’s, not my father. He wanted me to become an attorney on Wall Street and make millions (now billions). That is, after all, why he had gladly paid a fortune to send me to the best schools in the world:  Phillips Andover Academy (prep school) and Columbia College, Columbia University. I attended law school after college, but began to have problems sleeping that only grew worse during my first semester. The less sleep I got, the more difficult it was to study. Finally, I couldn’t sleep at all. I dropped out of law school right before first-semester finals, an act for which my father never forgave me.  

But my sleepless nights continued even after I dropped out, which ******* up my mind and my life terribly. I had no idea why this was happening to me. If my mother had not surreptitiously intervened and got me into Menninger’s, I no doubt would not be writing this to you. Psychotherapy not only saved my life, but also allowed me, for the first time in my life, to realize I had feelings--my own feelings--my hopes, my dreams, my wishes, my needs. And after months, something magical happened when I unconsciously married my intellect with my new-found feelings:  out of me popped a poem, and I have remained a poet to this very day.

What does what I’ve just shared with you have to do with Biden and Harris? The answer is that both brought, and now bring, great promise, great hope. Out of total darkness comes the bright light of a new beginning--a caring, a compassion, the lack thereof almost brought me to my death, and our nation, democratically speaking, to the same. Now there are, metaphorically speaking, flowers in our hair once more.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jonny Angel May 2014
She is covered in angel-skin
& her fragrance is of lilac.
I frolic playfully
in her open fields
& she yields
so willingly.

Whispering a siren's voice,
she hypnotizes me,
her taste of wildflower-honey
soothes my parched throat,
she emotes
pure love.

Her touch is dreamy,
I get lost in her grip,
her lips sizzle grace,
possesses a face
of rarest beauty
I kiss.

Pools of comfort
she does make
& I ache for her
constantly
to quench
my burning *****,
we are joined
at the hip.

You should see her,
Heaven from above
does exist
down
here on Earth.

O yes,
I confess
she is!
Butch Decatoria Dec 2015
So, grasshopper....
What is love / to someone who is complaining?

Screaming. Wailing /  Proudly prevailing / loudly Reprimanding
Or commanding Bounded feet
Pushing.
Shushing in rushing / Busiest with everyone else's business
Pushing.

Dumbfoundedly Enforcing. Forcing / mindlessly divorcing meaning?
Not knowing /  Rather assuming or presuming
To speak not for himself
Instead for us, lauding law, howling for god

What is it without making / any sense? /
Having no reason?
What is love if only a word /
Sung or graffiti tag on walls / Ave. 3rd / blurbs

So to speak / a word / whispers...
Write or read / Flat screen / one dimensional unexperienced /
Word up /  Another billboard's Loud propaganda
"Unt wonderbar sinfully delicious"
You will OBEY
Says snickers /
Harangue of commands
The replete of a single word / repeat
"Believe"

On and on / carrying calm

And what is forever to an insect? With brief breath
Vampyric      Parasitic     Abuzz
Without purpose but swarm
Wasted waning /  Locust death Landscapes / we barely notice

Cherish just a starving word

So goes my question / Unanswered. Kept
distant. Unproven / underserved
The point is moot /
What is love  / To you?
Without proof Without life
What are eyes without the light ?

What is love if nothing /  If never born
A mind Emotes  /  oceans / swells /

Love ....
The tiniest of tempests

One thought becomes a storm
Felt Like dreams /  Stars for diamond tears
Energy in living form... now asking why / Are we here?
No doubt It is to know love
And so... What is a good word?    

Truth (the word of god)

Namaste

The eyes wordlessly say
Love light: Our beautiful day.

With every storm loud with thunder
A serenity found /  Amidst All Life's blunders

So jump for joy, grasshopper... Being loved is like being found.
Finally seeing the awe and the wonder.
The clarity of a mind's eye, life is the dream
breathless heart you must plunder.

Fight fire not with fire, but with water
that which you can have but cannot hold...

and what is love
if not sharing a drink
like every storm
we all are wet underneath
like every heart must sometimes think
we will wake already ashore

inhale this gift - the perfect time is now

because this is love, grasshopper
and we are the tempest
the hearts who think...

This must be love
having been
given everything?

my cup is filled by heaven's rain
no fear of death, but war and pain...

the storm swims with / in /
you.

But you're a beautiful day.
Natasha Feb 2018
if you love me,
please realize
there's more to what I say
you just have to look
behind my eyes.

for words uttered on my lips,
and written from my fingertips
may be misconstrued by
societal pressure and expectation,
but these baby blues tell no lies.

and if I love you?
you will know.
you'll feel me deep within your soul,
you'll find me peaking out beneath warm sheets
and laying dormant in grey streets.

you'll feel me catch in your throat,
like whiskey or cigarette smoke
or within the ushering sense of calm
patchouli and sage emotes.

ash to ash,
among waves and wind we'll float,
high above the rain and treetops
for tonight, the world is our ocean,
and the clouds our boat.
kinda rough. just tryna get words out
Butch Decatoria Nov 2018
Pan
Poet dances song in quietude
our dreams throng
down huckleberry roads

Unscripted spoken motions
Mosaic heart emotes

Hope

As he composed
Faces glow so
connect the dots
those consumed disposed

Knowing we're not broken
But in the art we form
as one whole - our garden grows...

Poet paints love with understated eloquence
visions of war never-was

with every tear an ocean
with every dream a peace

all seedling springs.

Poet grants wish
Dances in the street
laughter as he weeps

beauty is what we all seek
to lovingly keep

evergreen

and free.
Repost revised
Josh Koepp Jan 2013
i call to the masses to seek their light
their keystrokes, emotes, and other insights
that make this place what it is and where it will go
because we don't know where.
we take it there
the longest poem ever written is a poem in which
we will create as humans
line by line,
each one never better than the last
only different
because it calls a different consciousness home.
it calls a different person home.
if we all added a line,one by one, we could create magic
we cold create the infinite knowledge
Won't you do this with me world?
Butch Decatoria Dec 2015
PAN
Poet dances song in quietude

our dreams throng
down huckleberry roads


Unscripted spoken motion
Mosaic heart emotes

Hope

As he composed
Faces glow so
connect the dots
those consumed disposed


Knowing we're not broken
But in the art we form
as one whole - our garden grows...


Poet paints love with understated eloquence
visions of war neverwas

with every tear an ocean
with every dream a peace

a seedling springs.


Poet grants wish
Dances in the street
laughter as he weeps
beauty is what we seek

to lovingly keep
evergreen

and free.
A new title makes it a whole new poem. Love it.
Ashly Kocher Nov 2021
The light it emotes
The powerful vibes it shows
The beauty flying high
On this, the Full Moon, up in the sky
Keith W Fletcher Mar 2017
to truly listen hear and understand
takes more than just the human ear  
required are those intractable elements
that hide somewhere beyond the outerinnersphere
adding the unwanted and too often unnoticed filters
designed to convolute what should be crystal clear
so that others perceive us as something that is more or less
than the way we aspire to see ourselves or wish to appear

again we see no end to connections that tend to override
unseen as any certain or uncertain sets of circumstance
A sharp conflict exists among notes it emotes that never floats
falling instead to B Flat as if dead on that floor so no one dances
where invitation becomes invasion so walls suddenly appear
  to block out light and inspiration as a way to halt any advances
all because we choose our view in direct relation to what applies
to our eyes as we're convinced we see all by quick sideway glances

but it takes more than eyes to realize that which is not there
so convinced we become incensed those reasons we cannot find
that somehow somewhere someway or another someone else
has pulled some kind of magic trick that then did inflict the mind
of all those who cannot see what it is that you believe it to be
" SO THE WHOLE DAM WORLD HAS GONE BLIND BLind  blind
as for all us who accept the truth you hear with more than by ear
see by more than just eyes to think requires more than just your mind

may have the makings of an empath mind if you find you're so inclined ask yourself if you truly TRULY  live up to your OWN expectations
to invest by this simply impossible test taken without time constraints
once able to refrain from creating the walls that block out inspirations to endure the painful cure by could never would never no way I'll ever
change my mind that are self fulfilling prophesies of your inclinations
so that day comes when you realize but know not when the test did end
to accept the grade you give yourself will depend .. ( congratulations )
when you have long talks with those who won't accept their own box
does exist and you persist and are sure you've not built yourself a box...
of clear glass....then friend you have just passed.    
now go find yourself a way to make a difference.     PEACE & LOVE
Kalen Doleman Jul 2018
Emotions change constantly.
I experience a wave of the new.
From happy, sad, anger.

At least that's what i thought.

I saw them, these disparate faces.
All trying to claim my personality.
I thought and tried to protect it.
But really it's a sin.

A sin to be because it obliterates the self
myself.
And such a sin
imperils reality itself.

So i let go of the personality.
Finally to lay bare whats free.
Because in the truth i'm not a disposition.
I am just being.

Confused in a social box of response.
In feeling these untruths.
Which are promoted as rectitude.
But they are just emotions, nothing more.

These emotions are not me.
The personality is nothing as well.
NO- THING
It hurts when you first realize that.
But then you see that the hurt is fake
as well.

So inner demons exist.
But they always shatter too.
It's all a jumbled mess.
So to escape the mind brings me harmony.

And with that i decamp.
Then openly i may find peace.
Because a constantly moving
mind can drive you nuts.

It's like a prison, as
the mind continues to create.
With no bounds or limitations
but the penitentiary is really only
there when the personality exists.

But is letting go of personality
Crazy? As you become what they call "weird"
to let go and be who you
really are requires courage.

"civilization" creating personality so let it go.
and to let go of that.
Is to let of the false fellowship.
So is it worth it?

I think yes.
To save yourself and to get rid
of social and mental dis-ease.
You have to let go.

I have to be free.
Free from the box of emotes presented.
as that i can feel it all.
And who i am.

To express to be open.
To those in society this is wacko.
But it doesn't matter.
Because they are all trapped in  temperament.

I am moving to be free from.
the curse.
The same curse i mentioned earlier.
which kills you through rationalization.

So I've seen and accepted
the faces.
I met them face to face
ear to ear.

I heard them in person.
and i saw who they wanted me.
to be.
I saw what they wanted others to see.

But i'm not doing that.
Imma be  me.
I'm not doing that.
Imma be me.

To be me is to accept it all.
I accepted the past.
I accepted the now and future
and let go of it all.

I was ready to experience truth
to see the authenticity of everything.
To lie in authenticity
and to be alone.

To not be alone in thoughts.
To not be together with others in
public.
But to be alone outside of that trip.

There are many ways to go
and the way is around thee.
In the whirlwind that encapsulates the soul.
So i can let it go.

Confusing eh?

Being awake for the first time in life
Moving on around the inner light.
The inner openings of strife/sacrifice
and seeing that the light is not inner or out.

Instead it's beyond and together.

And finally i made it to that point.
Where the mind is gone and soul too.
So that u could touch what is wise,
open, and true.

I can feel it all
and be me.
Not tainted by the falseness
of society's fake emotions.

Instead, feeling them in their truth
seeing their vulnerable nature
and truly connecting and discerning
not going and becoming.

Instead just being
be to be
see to see
me to me.

And finally, i can whisper its name.
Not fortitude's essence and flavor.
I can live not brilliantly or in mediocrity
I can be to be.

And it's crazy.
be to be
that is crazy
but it's truth
and it's really free.
"Be to be"
Gadus Nov 2016
balled up wallowing
a fountain inside
Initiated with impatient fingers
the sky rolls and lingers
hit play as i lay splayed with the stereo

man with the mic emotes notes
spilling out the vile
feelin' vetted as the
pressure built to a busting must release

and people look more like
collective needs to me
embodied by vampires
looking for flesh embroidered
in a summer dress

buckets of plasma refusing to leak
as we speak
in quotients
calibrated by these lovely potions

zyban in my right hand
smoke loud til its ******* right, man
looming over my brothers dead body

like who came to watch me?
        like who came
                who came to watch me?
Butch Decatoria Jul 2019
So, grasshopper....
What is love / to someone who is complaining?

Screaming. Wailing /  Proudly prevailing / loudly Reprimanding
Or commanding Bounded feet
Pushing.
Shushing in rushing / Busiest with everyone else's business
Pushing.

Dumbfounded yet Enforcing.
Forcing / mindlessly
divorcing meaning?

Not knowing /  Rather assuming or presuming
To speak not for himself
Instead for us, lauding law, howling for god

What is it without making / any sense? /
Having no reason?
What is love if only a word /
Sung or graffiti tag on walls / Ave. 3rd / blurbs

So to speak / a word / whispers...
Write or read / Flat screen / one dimensional unexperienced /
Word up /  Another billboard's Loud propaganda
"Unt wonder-bar sinfully delicious"
You will OBEY
Says snickers /
Harangue of commands
The replete of a single word / repeat
"Believe"
On and on / carrying calm

And what is forever to an insect? With brief breath
Vampiric      Parasitic     Abuzz
Without purpose but swarm
Wasted waning /  Locust death Landscapes / we barely notice

Cherish just a starving word

So goes my question / Unanswered. Kept
distant. Unproven / underserved
The point is moot /
What is love  / To you?
Without proof Without life
What are eyes without the light ?
What is love if nothing /  If never born
A mind Emotes  /  oceans / swells /

Love ....
The tiniest of tempests
One thought becomes a storm
Felt Like dreams /  Stars for diamond tears
Energy in living form... now asking why / Are we here?
No doubt It is to know love
And so... What is a good word?    

Truth (the word of god)

So jump for joy, grasshopper...
Being loved is like being found.
Finally seeing the awe and the wonder.
The clarity of a mind's eye,
life is the dream the heart you must plunder.
the perfect time is now
because this is love, grasshopper
and we are the tempest and peace
the hearts who think...

This must be love
Thank goodness/  for everything….
Repost revised
Cigar cutter arms
Reaching, ever reaching
But are they mine
Or yours?
There’s nothing to do
There’s nothing I can do
Just leave me to myself
He emotes so hard
It’s so hard to emote
Slammed doors
Shut mind
Heavy with pain
In his knees
In his brain
Pulls him under
Waves crashing, crunching
My body
Keeps getting thinner
He holds my head under
He is a strong swimmer

I attempt to align my aches with his
For every one of his nightmares
I have a memory
For every panic attack
A physical assault
I consider propping up his bruises with my scars
We could build a church
Or a bar
Structured out of bullet holes
Supported by columns of razor burns

I buy a plane ticket instead
I build wings from all my tickets
I build a house, a home, a car, a manicured lawn
A husband, 2.4 kids, a dog, memberships with Al-Anon
And yet I still have leftovers
To share
With all the angels of this city

But oh, what a pity
That audacity
Is not the same as love
Diseased pigeons don’t count as doves
He said,
“Baby, it’s all in your head”
I said,
“Yeah, well, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

I am a runaway woman-******* the loose
Dodge bullets, dodge compliments
Slide out of my noose
There’s nothing I can’t do
I’ll just leave you to yourself
I’ll just leave you

I am notorious
Notoriously hard to get
I will always be the girl who finds a way
The woman who gets her way
The one who got away
Just in time
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Jan 2020
"Casablanca" is my all-time favorite movie.
I usually only watch a movie once. If it is a
great movie, twice. "Casablanca" I have
watched probably 50, 60 times. Why is that,
you ask? There are many reasons. Every
scene is iconic. Bogart, who was expelled
from Andover, the school from which I
graduated, is not handsome, yet he emotes
a singular masculine appeal. I wish there
were a real Rike's Cafe Americain. I would
go wherever it was, even though I neither
drink alcohol nor gamble. Virtually every
actor and actress plays her or his part in a
scintillating way. The story line keeps me
rapt, even though I have seen the movie
so many times The Paris scenes are the
most romantic I have ever seen. When
Bogart helps the young married couple
from Bulgaria get enough money to get
to Lisbon, then to America, by cheating his
own casino, my heart, too, is softened.
And the dialogue at the end of the movie
is trenchant, unforgettable. But, to be
honest, the most compelling reason I have
watched "Casablanca" so many times is
that when Ingrid Bergman and her movie
husband first enter Rick's, I instantly press
"pause." Then I spend as long as I wish
staring at Ingrid's face, the most beautiful
woman's face I have ever seen, and I have
had the good fortune to see many beautiful
faces of women up close in my life, but none
as radiant and mesmerizing as Ingrid's.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet and human-rights advocate his entire adult life. He recently finished his first novel, A CHILD FOR AMARANTH.
kromwellfarkus Mar 2023
**** me
Before I **** myself.

Put my eyes
Upon the shelf.

Leave my heart
To the dust.

Swear if you must.

Old emotes
Come back to haunt.

No control
Unleash the hound.

This is not what
I though I had found
Just die
Just go
Just drown.
Ashly Kocher Dec 2020
Staring into the eyes of an angels
She emotes her powerful energy into your soul

— The End —